


When Your Last Remains Are Few

by buildhogwartsthenwewilltalk



Series: Out of Sight, Out of Mind (Out of Body) [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astral Projection, Dead Klaus Hargreeves (sort of), Gen, Ghost Klaus Hargreeves, Good Sibling Number Six | Ben Hargreeves, Immortal Klaus Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, POV Klaus Hargreeves, Post-Season/Series 01 AU, Powerful Klaus Hargreeves, Sober Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buildhogwartsthenwewilltalk/pseuds/buildhogwartsthenwewilltalk
Summary: Klaus Hargreeves can die.Now, that wouldn't be a shock to anyone else, or even Klaus for that matter. He knows he can die, he just gets right back up again. He may have found that out the hard way, but hey, it's not a big deal.Well, that's what he thought, until he dies, accidentally, in his sleep.But he doesn't shoot straight off to the black and white beyond this time. Instead, he stays to stare down at his own stiffening corpse, slipping through the veil to join the spirits he'd spent so much of his life avoiding. It's not like he stays long, but rigor mortis makes the whole waking up thing a right pain in his ass.Thank god Ben is there to keep him sane. In fact, it's only because of his brother than he realises that it's not so bad after all. Maybe other stiffs would disagree, but being sort-of-dead can have its upsides. Klaus just has to figure them out, however long that takes.How hard can being a ghost be, anyway?
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/ David "Dave" Katz (mention), Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Out of Sight, Out of Mind (Out of Body) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121144
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	When Your Last Remains Are Few

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> So this work is actually a continuation of a little one-shot I wrote last June, so you might want to go and take a look at that before you read this? It's just under 5k and acts sort of like a prologue/ first chapter to this fic.
> 
> If you don't want to tho that's fine! The long and short of it is that Klaus is sober in a vague timeline after Season One where they stop Vanya blowing up the moon. He's getting there with manifesting ghosts but in the process realises he can die and join the ghost party on command (essentially he can 'Astral Project'). Hilarity/ spooky stuff ensues! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!

“I can’t believe you don’t know who Atomic Kitten is, that should be a criminal offence,”

Klaus throws a languid hand over his forehead, taking a break from the particularly fuzzy scarf that Allison had commissioned from him a few days ago. He stretches his lower legs across his bedspread, wiggling his bare toes as he knocks his neck against the headboard. 

Ben doesn’t look up, perched at the other end of the mattress leaned over a fussy hardback spread open on the blanket. Tonight, they’re listening to the radio, with Klaus’ old FM/CD player combo, complete with colorful paint stains and a taped-on Arial, placed precariously on the carpet beside the bed frame. The programming is on an ad break, and Klaus has spent the evening and now the middle of the night providing his stunning, insightful commentary on every early 00s pop ballad selected by the ageing city DJ. 

Klaus nudges his foot through his brother, wincing at the sharp pains that shoot through his limbs and rubbing his eyes to relieve the growing tension in his skull. 

“Well, come on, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Ben doesn’t look up. 

“I don’t know Klaus, I-,”

Klaus picks up his needles, focusing on their clicking rhythm as his shaking hands loop yarn over one side and then the other at a reassuring pace. 

“Come on Ben, she’s a classic, what, do you have a better offer?” 

His brother doesn’t look, his jaw tight as his eyes follow the text on the creased pages in front of him. It’s not his usual source of entertainment, Ben’s never been a big non-fiction reader, but Five recommended it from the old man’s library, so Klaus was instructed to retrieve it for him last week. He has no idea what it is, but apparently, it’s a lot more interesting than whatever Number Four is desperately trying to bang on about. 

“Not really, I don’t really listen to that kind of stuff,”

He looks pointedly down at the yellowing paper, determined to let the conversation die out. 

Not on Klaus’ watch. He has a very vested interest in keeping this night going for as long as possible. 

“Oh come on, it’s not like you died under a rock or anything, go on, gimme your top three, no wait, ten, singles from 2004, right now, go!”

“Klaus,”

“Come on! Please I promise I won’t spill if it’s something embarrassing, well, I’ll try not to but Allison doesn’t kiss and tell, not to anyone important anyway-,”

“Seriously Klaus I’m trying to-,”

“Look, I won’t say anything about Coldplay thing, we all make mistakes but-,”

“ _Klaus,_ ”

Ben sits up and stares at the ceiling as if asking the little girl to give him strength. 

Klaus smiles sweetly before his brother swallows;

“I know what you’re doing,”

Klaus keeps his face still, looking back down in his lap as his fingers work busily, if imprecisely, at his project. 

“Excuse me?”

Ben leans back, looking straight at Klaus for the first time the whole evening. 

“You’re gonna have to call it in eventually,”

Klaus doesn’t look up from the mess of wool on his chest, wrapping yarn around his fingers and keeping his voice light and airy. 

“I have no idea what you could possibly be referring to,” 

“Oh really?”

“Yes really,”

“Bullshit,”

“Language!”

Ben rolls his eyes with a sigh, doing that face that makes Klaus think his brother is counting back from ten like a trainee kindergarten teacher. 

“Just cut the crap, Klaus,”

“What crap? I am only arguing that Natasha Hamilton’s musical stylings are simply superior to-,”

“You’re going to have to go to bed eventually,”

Klaus offers an innocent if weak, smile. 

“I will, I was just _saying_ that-,”

If Ben could slam the book shut, he probably would.

“No, I’ve had enough,”

Klaus swallows, pretending to count stitches.

“Enough of what?”

Ben folds his arms and looks up through his eyebrows. 

“You know what, this isn’t going to end well,”

Ah shit. 

“Says who?”

“I do, it’s not good for you,”

Klaus scoffs, rolling his eyes before cursing as he accidentally drops a stitch. 

“To be fair, it’s not the worst thing for me either,”

Ben shakes his head, nodding his head pointedly. Klaus groans and doesn’t make eye contact but leans forward nonetheless to turn the page. 

“You can’t keep this up, Klaus,”

“What are you, my mother?”

Ben sighs, drawing his left hand through his hair. 

“As much as I feel like it sometimes, no,”

He looks back to Klaus. 

“But it doesn’t make me any less right,”

 _Yeah yeah._

“I thought we were getting past this, anyway,”

Klaus frowns. 

“Past what?”

Ben looks up from his page, his brow raised like it’s obvious. 

“ _This._ Avoiding shit; shit being, your _powers_ ,”

Klaus swallows and stops fiddling with the needles. 

“I’m not avoiding it,”

Ben raises an eyebrow. Klaus looks down. 

“Okay, just a little, but-,”

“But?”

Klaus sits up and shoves his knitting to the side. He rubs the back of his neck and stares intently at his bedsheets. 

“This is different, okay!” 

Ben sits up from his book and leans forward, resting his chin on his fist. 

“And how is that?”

Klaus squirms.

“I don’t know, I uh...,”

Ben waits. 

“I just uh … well it’s fucking creepy!”

His brother frowns.

“And everything else isn’t?” 

Klaus groans, scrubbing his hands over his face and defiantly avoiding the spectre looming by the far wall, muttering against the brick in a language he could understand but can’t be assed to translate. 

“Well, this is like, 30% more creepy on account of, oh I don’t know, leaving my own fucking _corpse,_ behind, but hey, what do I know,” 

Ben sighs again. 

“ _Klaus,_ ”

“What Ben? What, you expect me to take it in my stride?”

“No, but... surely you know that ignoring it will only make it worse?”

Klaus shrugs.

“Only with that attitude,”

Ben groans, his hands twitching like they can’t decide if they want to put his book away or wrap themselves around his brother’s throat. It’s sweet of him really.

“What is the worst that could happen?”

Klaus drops his hands to the mattress. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, Ben, let me think,”

He counts down on his hand. 

“It could start happening all the time, I might make it permanent, I might start going insane like practically every other _fucking ghost in this house_ ,” 

At that, he feels his hands go cold, and the figure in the corner snaps back to face them, staring wild and wide with bared teeth. 

Klaus curses, shaking out his hands as Ben reaches out, patiently counting him down from ten to one like they’ve done a hundred times in the last months. They make it to three before Klaus bites his lip, and finally, his hands rise back up to room temperature, prickly with burning static. The spectre loses interest, returning to chatting with the architecture, and Klaus slumps back into his mattress.

“See!”

He groans, clutching his head in his hands. 

“I can barely even control my main bullshit, why’d a new one have to come along?”

Ben grimaces, but sits up, his face set jaw tight with determination. 

“And you really think that ploughing through until you collapse from exhaustion is the best way to get a grip on things?” 

Well, yeah if you have to put it like that? 

Ben shakes his head. 

“You’ve come a long way, don’t go back to the edge just because you’ve got something new to carry up the mountain,” 

_Profound as always, dearest brother._

“But I-,”

“Klaus, go the fuck to sleep,”

Klaus scoffs.

“And what, wait till my soul gets bored with me?” 

Ben shrugs, spreading his hands. 

“We don’t even know if it will happen again, and if it does, then we’ll deal with it, I can’t see what your other option is,”

 _Well I can think of one,_ Klaus thinks, but he’s figured that Ben wouldn’t be on board with returning to that old chestnut. 

Ben shakes his head, drawing his feet under his crossed legs. 

“Look, you can’t avoid this forever Klaus, and certainly not before you collapse on your face from sleep deprivation,”

He’s right, of course he is, but that doesn’t mean Klaus has to like it. Ben continues.

“Besides, aren’t you kind of … curious?” 

His brother is leaning closer now, his chin resting on his palm and Klaus twists his hands in his lap. He wants to brush him off, but Ben knows him too well. He’s had nothing but surprises when it comes to himself these last few months, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little … intrigued to see where this goes. 

But shit, if it isn’t exhausting (literally).

“Kind of but I … I don’t know...,”

Ben twists his lips. He knows him too well.

“Well, you won’t know until you find out, and you can’t find out until it happens again, and you certainly can’t find out if you force yourself to stay conscious so long that your blood vessels burst,”

Seriously, this ‘Ben being right’ thing is getting really fucking old. 

“Just go to sleep Klaus, before you lose any more brain function,”

_But I-_

“I’ll be right here anyway, just in case you decide to … leave,” 

_Not that you can go far anyhow,_ Klaus thinks. 

But the admission seems to settle the issue and Ben is already turning back to resume his position on the end of the mattress, closing his eyes to concentrate on the radio’s quiet crooning. 

Fine. If he _must_. 

Klaus flips the book shut and shoves his handicraft onto his cluttered bedside table. He flops back against his pillow, drawing the fleece blanket over his chest and letting his insistent eyelids finally fall shut. 

He doesn’t drift away immediately, his fingers worrying at the edge of his sheets and the links of his tags. But something about the consistency of his anxious jitters creates a rhythm that isn’t soothing, but enough to rock him not so gently into sweet, sweet, unconsciousness. 

\----

It isn’t like last time. 

Klaus is still floating, still untethered in a moment that is like dreaming but realer and softer and separate. It’s still quiet, and there's that pleasant coolness against his skin as he drifts, sitting in the everlasting moment. It’s nice, safe, and Klaus almost wishes he could stay like it forever. 

But then his vision clears. 

He’s standing, standing over a rug, a bed, _a body._

Shit, no not again, not again, please no no no _nope_. 

Klaus can’t help but recoil, but this time a pair of gentle hands grab his shoulders before he stumbles and there’s a cool breath against his ear. 

“You’re alright Klaus, you’re okay, I’ve got you,”

Ben’s voice is calm, right beside him with his jacket’s zipper digging into Klaus’ bare arms. He knows what's happening, and that helps as his brain grasps around thoughts at a racing pace. But this time he can understand that it’s fine, he’s fine, he’s okay, he’s fine. 

But Klaus can’t stop looking at the body, the body on the bed, the body wrapped in purple sheets with eyeliner smeared across its cheeks and its mouth hanging slack against its chest. It’s just a body, he knows that, and he knows what's happening in some distant, abstract sense. 

Only it’s his body, his sleeping body, his _dead body he-_

Two hands drag his gaze away. 

_Oh, hi Ben._

His brother forces him to look him in the eyes, his hands cool but solid, remarkably and fantastically solid against his cheekbones and suddenly Klaus feels his spiral begin to slow. He takes a frankly impossible breath. 

“You good?”

Klaus nods.

“I hate this,”

Ben huffs a laugh and pushes him to stand up straight. Klaus leans back on his heels and staggers, before bending his knees and finding his balance. He looks down to find his feet firmly connected to the ground, but his body is alight, the pale, cool blue encircling his arms, his hands and his fingers. 

“That was quicker than before,”

Klaus nods.

“It felt quicker,” 

Ben nods back.

“How else does it feel?” 

Uhh...

Klaus takes stock, scanning himself mentally like he thinks some hippie lady back at rehab told him to do once. He lets the focus shift from his head, to his middle to his bare feet and every passing second, combined with Ben’s ever-present shadow beside his elbow, helps him settle, just a little. 

There’s that absence, the unnerving silence in his ribcage and stillness in his chest that makes him want to vomit. He’s cold, but not freezing, and he brings his hands through his hair to find a not unpleasant, just _odd_ sensation brushing his palms. 

“... Different?” 

Ben nods, his eyes clear but curious as his lip quirks up at the corner. 

“Good different?”

Klaus shrugs, trying to bring moisture into his mouth. It’s not dry, per se, just … off somehow? 

“I don’t know, just different?” 

Ben bites his lip.

“Okay, we can work with that,” 

They stare at each other as the blood, or whatever it was, begins to stop rushing through Klaus’ ears. It’s strange, but he can see his brother _better_ like this. Not that he had any trouble before, of course, but it's like the resolutions been dialled way up, and he can see every pore in his face, even some lint on his jacket? How that worked is beyond him, but it’s enough to ground Klaus back into whatever reality he’s currently residing in. 

Ben is there. He always is, but it’s like he’s been struck with it all over again now he’s not freaking the fuck out. 

He smiles, just a little. 

“Hi,”

Ben smirks, his lips tugging back as he gives a little wave. 

“Hi,”

Now Klaus can’t suppress a laugh and laughs harder when Ben smiles back. This is insane, this is absolutely, fucking insane. He has no idea how he’s doing this, how this works, why it’s happening, _nothing_. But now his brother is in ultra-high HD and he’s fucking _glowing_ and oh boy if Reginald could see him now. 

Actually, he’s doing less of the glowing thing this time. As he slowly stops giggling like the school kid he no longer is, he watches the sharp halo soften into something fainter. It’s still there, still lightly encircling his extremities and highlighting his pale skin against the dirty rug, but its muted and looks a little more, well, like him. 

Cool. 

“So now what?”

Now what, indeed. 

He shakes out his hands and looks around the room, the place still and untouched and _apart_ from him, like he’s looking through a sheet of glass. It's uncanny, he can’t put his finger on why apart from well … the obvious. It's unnatural and unnerving and he really, kind of, definitely wants this to be over now. 

And yet...

He steps back and turns on the balls of his feet. Now he’s almost calmed down, and he’s done not this award-winning party trick almost on his own terms, he finds himself forcing his eyes away from the still, cold _deaddeaddead_ body lying on his bed, and towards the door. 

He looks up to Ben. 

“I think...,”

He nods. 

“I think we should go for a walk,”

Ben straightens. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Ben glances back towards him, him being the stiffening carcass- _nope_ -body on the mattress. 

“You sure?” 

Klaus nods. Strangely, he is, ahem, dead certain, 

“Yeah, anything to get away from...that,” 

He gestures vaguely to his right, and Ben nods, taking the initiative to turn himself away towards the exit. Klaus follows, before realizing there is a problem. 

His bedroom door is closed. 

Ah. 

“Shit,”

Ben stops with a questioning look before his mouth stretches into a grimace. 

“Oh... yeah,”

His brother lingers awkwardly by the door frame as Klaus stands still, his hands twisting in his shirt before coming up to hold the back of his neck. 

Oh god, he really isn’t going to like this is he?

“It’s not so bad,” Ben offers, weakly, “I promise, it uh-,”

Klaus doesn’t move, and Ben levels with him. 

“It’s like going over a hill, except it's not uh, because you can’t feel it, but you can because it's off and uh... shit,”

 _Not your best, Benny,_ Klaus thinks as his brother stumbles through his words, spreading his hands awkwardly to make up for his failed verbal gymnastics.

“Seriously it’s just … it's fine okay? Just trust me,”

When does Klaus not? It’s the doing as he’s told he’s always struggled with. Therefore, he stays put. 

His brother steps forward with a huff.

“Look,”

Ben puts one hand through, the skin phasing out of shape and through the solid wood without so much as flinching before his left foot follows to do the same. He steps through, vanishing for a moment, before sliding right back in. 

“See, fine,”

Yeah, you would say that, wouldn’t you? Klaus doesn’t budge, but brings his hands back down to his sides, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt. 

Ben sighs. 

“Look, Klaus, it’s this, or staying in here with...,”

He looks pointedly through him towards the bed. Well, if you put it like that... 

“Okay fine!”

He clears his throat.

“Absolutely fine, no problem. No problem at all,”

Klaus shakes out his hands, then his feet and stretches his neck. Ben rolls his eyes, then frowns, and disappears back through the door, apparently deciding coddling probably won’t get them very far.

Christ okay. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

He sighs, however, and takes a step. Then another. And then another, before he knows it his nose is barely an inch away from the door. 

Alright, shit. Here goes nothing. 

He holds his breath, not that it’ll help much, squeezes his eyes tight and digs his chipped nails into his palms. 

And walks straight through. 

He’s everywhere, he’s spread out but squeezed into every space, his entire body forced between each grain of peeling, cracking wood. Fingertips run down his neck and press into each disc along his spine. He should feel violated, torn apart in every single way, but the feeling is muted and dull as if pressed through several layers of clothing. And although he gasps as he emerges on the other side and leans over to catch his hands on his knees, he feels strangely … fine? 

Less than fine, but not because it’s bad but because it’s … less. Less than a feeling but more than nothing and oh yeah, that is very, fucking _odd_. 

Ben reappears. 

“Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

He’s right, but Klaus gives him the finger anyway. Ben shakes his head, then drags him to stand up properly with a smirk. Klaus shakes out his limbs and groans, feeling a little more together though not completely whole, but he’s getting a feeling that comes with the territory.

“You get used to it,”

"That’s easy for you to say,”

Ben shrugs, apparently in sympathy, but he still fails to push down a wry smile. He’d deny it of course, but Klaus gets the feeling his brother might be enjoying this. 

He stands, batting Ben off and flexing his hands, before looking up and down the corridor. Apart from the warm light peeking under his own bedroom door, the hallway is dark, and Klaus and Ben are alone without even another spirit to bother them. 

“So... what now?”

Ben puts his hands in his pockets. 

“I don’t know,” 

Helpful. 

Klaus goes to huff when he hears a door swing beneath him. He turns on his heel towards the staircase, when a looming shadow casts against the wall. Heavy footsteps land hard against the creaking wood, and a low groan breaks the silence. Sure enough, Luther slides into view. With his ears covered by enormous headphones, his biggest brother is lost in thought, humming to himself as he tries (and fails) to quietly walk past his sleeping siblings. 

Without thinking, Klaus raises his hands to give him a friendly salute, but Ben grabs his arm to pull him out of the way. He goes to protest, when his toes are left behind and his oblivious brother walks _straight through his fucking foot_.

He shudders, the feeling that someone’s walking over your grave suddenly a lot more literal than he’s used to. Not as visceral as the door or anything, but his foot feels like he’s stepped in a barrel full of blunt thumbtacks. 

“Oh I _do not_ like that,”

“Yeah, that’s always a bitch,” 

Klaus will make a note. He stands back up though and watches as his brother continues, oblivious, to walk towards his bedroom. He slips into his room with a muffled clunk, and the two brothers hover in the corridor a little while longer. 

“Well,” Ben asks, “what do you want to do now?”

Klaus isn’t sure, he didn’t think past getting through the door. He twitches a moment, feeling much more settled than he was being in the same room as his stiffening corpse, and a question forms in his mind. 

“I want to …,” 

He shakes out his limbs and grins, looking up. 

“I wanna see how far we can push it,”

His brother tilts his head, his lips twitching. 

“Yeah?”

Klaus nods back.

“Yeah,”

Ben grins, wide and sparkling, and Klaus is suddenly taken back thirteen years, to other almost forgotten late nights full of kitchen raids, bedroom heists and whispered comic books by torchlight. It’s never not been just them, not really. But now, for the first time since they were sixteen, there isn’t anything between them at all. If Klaus has one foot in the door, he’s just learned how to step all through. 

_Oh,_ he thinks, slapping his brother's arm as he starts his way towards the stairs, _this is might be fun_. 

\----

Long story short, he's right.

Klaus isn’t sure how long they’ve been at it, but all he knows is when he finally forces his way up through the attic hatch with a shudder, he can just a few streaks of orange peeking through the purple city sky against the window. 

It turns out, this whole ghost walking thing has a bit of a range. They’ve been through the whole house, forcing Klaus to quickly get over the wall walking thing as they find he can go anywhere, from the kitchen to dad’s office and apparently even up to the attic, without breaking a spiritual sweat. He and Ben have swept past Grace, charging peacefully in her own room on the second floor, without making a sound, and didn’t even get a mug to the face as they intrude on what must be Five’s seventh hot beverage of the night (they need to keep an eye on that). 

They’ve done the entire building, save the lower basement because fuck that place, for real. They’ve walked past every spirit, squeezed into every nook and cranny, and somehow it’s the most fun Klaus has had since the world almost ended. 

He isn’t even sure why. Maybe it’s that freedom, walking lightly on the mortal earth without making a sound or being bound by the petty boundaries of brick and mortar, even if it makes him want to vomit a bit, stomach or no. 

More likely, it’s great to watch Ben, the ever sarcastic silent observer he is, genuinely, sincerely, laugh his guts up. 

He’d been holding off for a while, to be fair it was a valiant effort to at least try to protect Klaus’ well-bruised ego. But all it takes is one final mistimed door through the face as Five exits the kitchen for the academy’s resident wallflower to finally crack. Klaus shudders and curses as the scarred wood clips through his shoulder, and his brother finally takes pleasure in witnessing the Séance experience the second biggest pain in his ass since he died. 

Klaus can’t say he was expecting much sympathy, as his molecules numbly realign into his arm, nor does he appreciate being Ben’s ghostly court jester. But as Ben gives him a look through a barely suppressed grin that spells payback for over a decades worth of spiteful trips through his incorporeal remains, he can’t help but roll his eyes and give him a toothless _fuck off_ right back. 

That seems to open the flood gates. Whether he’s watching Klaus curse as he accidentally walks through a table, or shake his head as Klaus throws an unseen but nonetheless heartfelt _see this old man!_ at their dad’s portrait in the living room, his brother hasn’t stopped smirking this entire time and has been quite frankly giggling for more than an hour.

Ben doesn’t do that a lot, Klaus suddenly grasps, not really. He’s always been detached, even when he had a beating heart to call his own, and even as he leans his elbows against the faintly present window sill, Klaus has already somewhere promised that he wants to make it happen again. It’s probably the least he could do, or whatever. 

Ben joins him at the window. 

“You know,” he says breathlessly, his own incorporeal limbs resting on the window frame, “there’s still one thing we haven’t tried,”

“Hmm?”, Klaus looks over, his eyes resting on the flickering shop sign from the cornerstone below. 

“I don’t know if you feel up to it, but..,”

Klaus looks back, avoiding eye contact with the restless woman with half her chest caved in leering behind his brother. She doesn’t seem bothered, in fact, none of the house’s resident thistles seem that disturbed by his intrusion on their astral plane. Klaus would be more interested, but he’s too great full to go poking at that right this second. 

“But?”

Ben looks up, nervous but with that mischievous smile that takes years off his ageless face. 

“We could try … going out?”

He nods, his eyes guiding him towards the fire escape attached to the window and leading down to the empty pavement below. 

Yeah, Klaus had been thinking about that too. He doesn’t actually feel any different, even if there are at least two floors between himself and … himself. But there has to be a limit right? Even ordinary, garden variety ghosts are tethered in some sense, limited to a room, a building, sometimes even just an object and they rarely stray far from where they’re kept. By that logic, how does he even work? Does he uh … haunt his body? That feels right, but even this is quite far by usual standards, and this is some freaky shit. 

As Ben said before, there is only one way to find out. 

He grins.

“Care for a walk, brother mine?”

Ben doesn’t reply, but instead smiles, nodding towards the window as if to say _you first_. Klaus holds his breath, though it’s probably redundant, and walks through the glass with a shiver. 

After pausing to take stock on the rickety iron stairs, the two scramble down the narrow steps. Klaus wouldn’t have much care in his steps anyway, but something is exhilarating about the way he launches himself down to the pavement from the last ladder rung, his bare feet only just registering the landing as he hits the asphalt. Ben jumps down beside him, giving him a glance before Klaus nods back. He feels fine, maybe a slight pressure? 

But that’s not gonna stop him as they make their way out the ally, past the dumpsters and onto the high street. 

There’s no one about, which wouldn’t be a problem either way, but it means Klaus doesn’t have to watch where he’s going in case of a repeat of the toe/ door incident. Some people are working the graveyard shift, a few dead-eyed teenagers in corner stores and 24-hour burger dives, but apart from that the only thing to break the cool night air is the odd taxi, rumbling along to cart party stragglers and workaholics back home. 

He’s done this a thousand times, knows this part of town like the back of his hand, and so does Ben. But like before, Klaus can’t help but grin. He wants to keep going, they’re almost three blocks from the academy now and neither of them wants to stop. Ben is actually walking a few steps ahead of him now, leading up towards what they both know is the movie theatre is off main, and Klaus is eager to follow because he feels fine, this is fucking weird but actually pretty great and- 

Wait, what’s that sound? 

Klaus blinks a little, though his vision is fine, slowing down to figure out what that is, humming over the rattling manhole covers. It sounds like … guitar? Yeah, a lot of bass, vibrating over the squeaking brakes and rattling manholes as another car passes by. It has a melody too, it’s almost familiar but he can’t place it as he strains to listen further.

Klaus doesn’t even realize he’s stopped until Ben slides into his view. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

Klaus shakes his head. The noise is getting louder, but where is it coming from? 

“Uhhh, yeah, yeah I –,”

He clears his throat. 

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

Klaus starts to walk, with Ben letting out a muffled protest, but even as he picks up his pace the noise gets stronger and stronger. They reach the next corner, and he starts to make out more layers, swatting his brother away as he needs to strain less and less. There’s a drumbeat? And a piano, and, and … 

Klaus stumbles as a thumping melody starts to rise above the cities’ static, and that light pressure he felt when he’s left the building suddenly tightens, pulling back sharply against his ribcage. He wants to keep pushing, just one more block come on he can do this, he can-

Ben is shouting now, his hand is on his elbow but Klaus can’t hear over the rising tempo. He reaches the last traffic light, the red bulbs grating against his ears as his bare toes touch the edge of the sidewalk. He goes to take one more step, just one more when-

_SNAP_

\----

Klaus collides headfirst with his dresser. If anything, it’s a welcome distraction as once again every cell in his body gets a spiritual kick up the ass. All the blood that had pooled in his hips, his heels and the base of his skull catapults along his veins, and with each stuttering heartbeat his fingers melt from something like stone to flesh. 

Oh god, Klaus is never going to get used to this. He forces some oxygen in and out of his deflated lungs, and slowly he manages to push his rigid spine up from the littered rug. His limbs groan in their sockets, and with a gasp, Klaus pulls himself up to his elbows to find that yes, he is back in his bedroom. 

Everything is as they left it, the string lights blinking on the bed frame, the hundreds of decade-old scribblings staring down from the wall, and the resolutely shut door reflecting back the warm bedside lamplight. Something’s different though, something that wasn’t here before but was back on the street. A sound that still croons in his ears despite the lack of streetlights and rushing cars. 

Klaus can follow it now, and he twists his cracking neck to his left until he finally feels the pulsing speakers beat against his cheek.

 _I died a hundred times// and you go back to her// and I go back to// black, black, black_

Urgh, sorry Amy, not right now. Klaus leans across his bedspread with a wince to finally click the radio into silence. He hasn’t even had the chance to resume his crumpled heap on the floor when a voice fills the song’s empty space. 

“ _Klaus_ , shit are you alright?”

Ben flies through the door, looking as out of breath as someone in his condition ever could. His eyes are wide, scanning Klaus head to toe as if looking for injuries, which besides a slightly sore head Klaus feels is unnecessary. He waves him off, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth to try and give himself half a chance at a clear sentence. 

“Yeah,” he whispers before stopping abruptly, taking a second to clear this throat, “yeah Ben I’m all good I-“ 

He coughs again, but still laughs, bringing shaking knees up to his chin. Ben frowns, crouching on his toes beside the bed to examine him, and judging by his face, Klaus gets the feeling he might look like shit. 

“I’m sorry, I should have stopped you, I shouldn’t have pushed it so-,”

Klaus swats and arm through his brother’s shoulder, mustering up what he hopes is a comforting smile. 

“Chill Benny, I’m good I just-,”

He winces, twisting his lower back with a groan. 

“I think maybe I should stretch or something next time,”

He nudges his brother again, and Ben shakes his head, but Klaus can see the relief wash over his face. He leans his head against the edge of the mattress, tugging his messed up bedsheets over his bare shoulders. He shuts his eyes, once again attempting to bring his buzzing brain back down to Earth, but Klaus still makes his croaky voice box ask-

“How far did we get?” 

Ben shifts beside him. 

“I don’t know, just up to the pet store maybe?”

Wow, that’s almost five blocks. Going by usual ghost rules, it’s a lot further than Klaus thought, he must be special or something. Could have done with a warning before his spiritual bungee chord dragged him back home, but hey, baby steps. 

He’s almost proud, but he can still feel Ben’s worry leaking off him so before his brother expresses his unending disapproval once again, Klaus has to add-

“Hey, don’t sweat it I’m all good,”

He snorts.

“Maybe we should just take it easy next time, is all,”

He sighs to himself, drawing the blankets closer under his chin, but Ben still responds. 

“Next time, huh?”

Klaus looks up at that, his brother eyeing him curiously with his arms loosely folded over his knees. He shrugs again, but then he sees a glint in Ben’s eye, reflecting the dim lamplight. He looks curious, but maybe a little bit hopeful. Klaus isn’t sure what for, but it nudges him forward when he replies, almost shyly-

“Yeah, you know, if there is a … next time,”

He laughs, sudden but not sharp.

“Who am I kidding, I don’t think I have a choice in this one, Benny,”

He twists the wooden fabric in his fingers. Ben nods, drumming his fingers on his knees. 

“No, I don’t think you do,”

He swallows, tightening his jaw, his expression broadening into something wistful, almost pleading. 

“It’s not all bad though, right?”

Klaus thinks for a second. His limbs feel like lead pipes, his chest like ice. His lungs might as well be full of sawdust, and his head still hasn’t quite managed to screw itself back on properly. You’d have to be mad to enjoy this kind of torture, let alone inflict it on yourself willingly.  
He wasn’t kidding before. He hasn’t the first idea what the hell this even is, let alone how to control it, and neither does anyone in this damned house for that matter. Klaus isn’t exactly stoked to have yet another unglamorous party trick to add to an already gruesome roster, either. 

And yet…

Some part of him still feels restless, and as he looks his brother in the eye he feels something twitch, some fragment of himself, his _soul_ even, that craves, just a little, to feel that again. That absence. That freedom. 

And to see his brother laugh like he hadn’t heard in years. 

He sighs, reaching up to grab his smokes from the nightstand and lighting one up right there on the bedroom floor. 

“No,” he admits, ignoring his brother's disapproving glare at the rising smoke, “I guess it’s not all bad,”

Ben smiles. Klaus smiles back. 

Guess that settles it. 

Fuck it. What else has he got to do on a Tuesday night, anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!!!
> 
> Hope you liked that! I know I have another long fic on the go too but I was suddenly hit by a burst of inspiration after almost nine months and had to ride it all the way home. 
> 
> This should be an easier write than Common Sense, so maybe this might be fairly regular? Idk, I'll do my best either way :) 
> 
> Hope you're all doing okay out there, and I'll see you soon!
> 
> Min xxx


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